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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545296">Gimme, Gimme, Gimme, A Man After Midnight!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/grand_budapest_queen/pseuds/grand_budapest_queen'>grand_budapest_queen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Autumn, Cold Weather, Coming Out, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Secret Crush, Self-Discovery, Sharing Body Heat, Smut, Touring</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:26:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/grand_budapest_queen/pseuds/grand_budapest_queen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As John gets accustomed to life as a member of a band called “Queen”, he realises that touring isn´t all about playing gigs and sleeping in a van, but also just as much about surviving those cold November nights without falling in love with the singer of said band.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Deacon/Freddie Mercury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello my darlings,<br/>I hope you´re all doing well! With spooky season and autumn in full swing, I wanted to try and write something that kind of fit the mood of the dreary and cold November-weather. Also, I wanted to try out a new ship, so yeah, Deacury...<br/>I must say, it is one of my favourites and I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had when writing it.<br/>Chapter One, let´s go!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>John was quite sure of the fact that there had never been a more cold and miserable November than the one he was currently living through. </p><p>But then, John had always been someone who felt the cold. As a boy, he had sometimes lain in his bed, his mother´s thick knitted socks on his feet, wearing a jumper over his pyjamas, two woollen blankets piled on top of his duvet and still, his teeth had shattered, his fingers shoved into his armpits to warm them up. </p><p>His mother had worried about him whenever it had started to get colder, had told his father to feed the oven with more wood, had brought out the cosy blankets and knitted socks and had spent hours and hours each night, sitting by the fire and knitting another jumper for him. </p><p>Those were also the reasons why John loved the colder months. Yes, he would get awfully cold but then whenever his mother has seen that the tip of John´s nose was growing red, the skin of his pale hands slightly patchy, a slight shiver in his limbs, she had made him some tea, or even better, hot chocolate and they had sat together in front of the oven, her knitting away and him, reading a book, curled up in his favourite spot on the couch. </p><p>After his father had died, it had been him who had to chop the wood, him who had to look out for his mother, helping her around the house, trying to keep her mind off the sadness and the loneliness she had been feeling. </p><p>Those nights curled up by the oven where times when John, after all the pain he had felt after his father had died, felt safe, when he felt content and most importantly, warm. </p><p>This time, it was the first year that John would not join her on the couch and he was awfully sad about it, even though he didn´t want Roger, Brian and Freddie to know. He was in a band now, 19 years old and moved out from home for his first year of university. </p><p>And of touring. </p><p>Well, that´s what Freddie called it at least when for a weekend, they all crammed into Roger´s run down van and went up or down to whichever small town pub or townhall the singer had somehow managed to secure them a gig at. </p><p>At first it had been exciting, packing up the van on Friday afternoon to start the drive, living off stale sandwiches, crackers and cheap cider, squeezing into the back of the car with their sleeping bags to sleep and then, on the next day, playing the gig, John´s nerves almost killing him beforehand, each time feeling like this had been their best performance yet, celebrating it at the local pub and living through a wild night of drugs and booze for Roger and Freddie, just booze for Brian and once again some cider for John to then fall asleep, most of the time without Roger because he had gone home with some girl and wake up in the afternoon, horribly hungover. </p><p>Sometimes, when he returned to his small student flat on Sunday night, John felt like it had all been a dream. Never before had he called three amazing, kind, creative, wonderful people at once his best friends. Never before had he felt so connected to someone, so welcome in their little circle of friends.</p><p>Never before had he lived through such exciting, wonderful days, experienced adventures of thunderstorms, fist fights at pubs, his first ever spliff and kissing one, no two and once even three girls in one night, because they found him, small, scrawny John Deacon desirable. Even if it was just in a silly little game of spin the bottle with strangers Roger had become friends with over the course of a gig. </p><p>At 19, John felt he was getting the full package of his last year as a teenager, while spending his time with the coolest, most amazing lads he´d ever known and for a few weeks, he couldn´t wait for Fridays to come. </p><p>But then, as the weekends went by, John´s previous enthusiasm soon turned into a feeling of loneliness and, to be quite frank, being horribly homesick. </p><p>It was getting harder and harder to keep up with his uni work while they were away for days and trying to study whilst sitting on the backseat, balancing his books on his thigs and slowly getting sick in the shaky car while Roger cracked open the first beer, Freddie indulged in some marijuana and Brian desperately tried to read the signs by the road telling them the way to whichever small town they were heading to, was quite draining. </p><p>Also, not getting much sleep on those nights was causing him to be awfully tired during the week, sometimes almost falling asleep during lectures, having to ask some of his mates to borrow their notes so he could copy them on that night. </p><p>And then, there was the issue of him being the youngest in the band. </p><p>John had grown up to be a good boy, a boy with manners, following the rules that his parents, the school and the church had told him to go by. He didn´t swear, he didn´t overly indulge in drink, he didn´t listen to music that had lyrics with impolite words in it and he didn´t look at indecent images in the magazines his classmates hid under their beds at home, showing them to him when he came over to study or just hang out.</p><p>He helped his mum with house work, did his homework, had good grades and hadn´t disappointed his late father too much, even if he was a little too obsessed with rock music and playing base, but that was to be glossed over at family events. </p><p>And now, here he was, in a band, at 19, just moved out from home and feeling utterly and absolutely lost, like a small boy stumbling around between the legs of these three grown men who he called his best friends. </p><p> John didn´t want to feel like this. He tried his best to throw all his principles aside for the sake of fitting in, tried to swear and drink and sometimes even smoke as much as them and still, he failed miserably at keeping up with them. </p><p>On stage, he felt gangly and awkward, shy and childish next to Roger´s sheer force and loudness, Brian´s refined and quiet wit and Freddie´s raw, sultry, seductive elegance.</p><p>Sometimes, John almost felt paralysed, frozen in the moment, the spotlight on him, before a pair of kohl-lined, sharp black eyes focused on him, the fierce wing of the thick line Freddie had drawn around his almond-shaped eyes crinkling slightly as he winked at John, rousing him from his stupor of self-conscious stillness. </p><p>Sometimes while on stage, it felt like Freddie was his life-guard and the iceberg that made his ship go down at the same time. </p><p>Because oh, John had known that there was something different about the man the first time that they had met about a year ago, when Freddie had watched him play with dark, knowing eyes that seemed to see right through him, his full lips slowly showing a smile when John had started to play with nervous, sweating fingers. </p><p>Freddie had been the one who had given him a chance, the one who had taken him under his wing, the one who looked out for him on those wild, reckless nights. </p><p>He should have been like a big brother to him, just like Roger and Brian were but then, John was a little too self-aware to allow himself the comfort of lying to himself, of not admitting to himself, that…he didn´t know what it was exactly about Freddie. </p><p>All he knew was that it was there. </p><p>A yearning, a tingling sensation each time Freddie leaned in to rest his head on John´s shoulder during those endless hours driving in the van, each time John watched him get ready in the narrow backroom of a pub before a show, a flash of olive skin and dark hair, of lithe thighs and smooth, hairless sides before he averted his gaze in shame, each time Freddie put eyeliner on him, leaning in dangerously close, his warm breath ghosting over John´s cheeks, making him blush crimson and sweat, making his heart flutter in his chest like a little bird flapping its wings. </p><p>Over those last months, Freddie had become his protector, sleeping right next to him in the van at night and seemingly, being just as cold as him. </p><p>“Are you cold, Deaky?”, Freddie would whisper into the dark of the night, feeling John shiver in his sleeping bag next to him, inching a little closer. </p><p>“Maybe…a little…”, he would whisper back through his shattering teeth, feeling quite sorry that it was probably his constant tossing and turning that was keeping his friend awake. </p><p>“Oh, poor darling…”, Freddie would tut and then, he would open up his sleeping bag, motioning for John to inch over and join him. </p><p>At first, John had been hesitant. Growing up, his parents, although always kind and loving towards him, had never been terribly affectionate when it came to physical contact. </p><p>But there was a calling inside of him, a yearning, coming from deep within, buried underneath layers and layers of self-discovery, not yet fully developed, that gently whispered and told him that it was okay to want this, that there was nothing odd about sharing a little warmth with a friend. </p><p>He knew that there was more to it, that he was covering up something deeper, something more intense, burning almost with this little lie he told himself and so there was a smidge of shame to the action of inching closer, an air of awkwardness to his movements as he shyly joined the singer in his sleeping bag, abandoning his own. </p><p>And oh, how horridly, beautifully, utterly overwhelming it felt when Freddie would close his arms around him, would snuggle up to him like they had done this a thousand times before, John´s head coming to rest on his chest, tucked under the singer´s chin. </p><p>Freddie was skinny, they all were, but there was a delicate, elegant curve to his slim waist and hips, all long, cat-like lines of limbs, his shoulders hard and sinewy under John´s fingertips. </p><p>Feeling his heart hammering away in his chest, John would lay there, staring into the dark, careful not to move, careful not to break the precious, heavenly contact. </p><p>It was confusing, it was overwhelming, it was causing him to feel things, to experience things that he had been taught were wrong, sinful even, from a very young age. </p><p>“Get some sleep, darling.”, Freddie would whisper, completely oblivious to the younger man´s turmoil and then, sometimes, he would kiss the top of John´s head in brotherly affection, making the bassist feel like a fool. </p><p>Because while he lay there, blushing and trying to fight down the erection he started to sport, Freddie fell back asleep within minutes, quickly starting to breathe much more deeply. </p><p>At first, John had been scared of Roger´s teasing or getting raised eyebrows from Brian once they saw them like this in the mornings, but there was none of that and while he was glad about it, it sometimes made him feel even more foolish. </p><p>Because the lack of wondering from their friends meant that everyone knew, was certain of the fact, that Freddie held him tightly at night out of platonic affection and worry, just like he absentmindedly ran his fingers through Brian´s hair when they sat together to get rid of the tangles in his head of curls and how he massaged Roger´s tense shoulders after another tough drumming session. </p><p>It was simply what Freddie was like, kind and friendly, childlike almost, like a kitten, who had been taken away from its mother too early and now curled up on every lap, demanded head-scratches from strangers and trusted way too easily. </p><p>And so sometimes, when Freddie asked him if he was cold at night, he told him no, gave him a wobbly smile in the dark and turned towards the other side, feeling like this was the right thing to do. </p><p>What felt even worse to him was the fact that there was such a stark difference in the way Freddie would behave around other men. Men that seemed to fall into a much different category from him, Roger and Brian.</p><p>Men that they met on their various trips to pubs and bars, men that chatted the singer up, seemed to spot him like they had been searching for him. Men that gave the Persian a heated glance, a smile, then looked away again only to glance back up a few seconds later, a little game that was far too intricate for John to understand. A game that would result in the men coming up to Freddie, taking him by the hand and leading him out into the street. </p><p>“Going for a fag.”, Freddie would then mouth hastily, smiling crookedly, barely concealing the lie and Roger would simply grin and rolls his eyes. “Sure mate, we´ll be right here.”</p><p>Sometimes, Freddie would return from these little trips, half an hour later, looking a little flustered and debauched, grinning from ear to ear and it would make John feel sick to the stomach. Sometimes he would only be back in the morning, oddly quiet about where he had been on the last night and sometimes, there would be no smile on his lips, only a slight limp to his walk and a few faint bruises on his hips, that John could see when they hastily got changed before a show. </p><p>“Rog?”, John asked one night, when Freddie had once again trotted off with a guy, not having returned about an hour later, which had led to them deciding to go back to the van at around one in the morning. </p><p>“Yeah?”, Roger had replied, smoking his last cigarette of the night. </p><p>“You know…Fred…”, John had started hesitantly, but Roger had cut him off in a joking tone.</p><p>“Yeah, our old pal Fred…what about him?”, the Blonde asked with a little smirk. </p><p>“Doesn´t he…you know…actually have a girlfriend?”, John had finished his sentence, feeling the tips of his ears get hot. </p><p>“Oh right, yeah…I thought you´d figured  itout by now.”, Roger had replied with a little shrug, taking another drag from his cigarette, “Well you see, Deaky, I think Freddie, he kinda…swings both ways…or maybe he only swings towards dicks, I don´t really know, to be honest…not sure if he knows himself, he´s on a bit of a journey of self-discovery at the moment.”, the drummer had explained patiently. </p><p>“A-alright…”, John remembered the little stutter he hadn´t been able to eliminate from his voice. </p><p>“You got a problem with that, mate?”, Roger had asked. There had been no aggressive undertone to his voice but in his blue eyes, John hast definitely seen how very ready the drummer had been to defend Freddie, if needed. </p><p>After all, they were best friends, had been for years and in moments like these, it was painfully obvious to John that he was the newest addition to the band, that they might have accepted him, but were not yet seeing him as one of them. </p><p>“No, of course I don´t.”, John had said, making sure to look Roger right in the eyes, even though, being painfully shy, he struggles with it. </p><p>The smile that had appeared on the Blondes lips upon hearing his words had taken a huge weight off of his shoulders. </p><p>“Good. That´s good, Deaks.”, Roger had replied, clapping his arm, laying his arm around the young bassist´s shoulders, “Wouldn´t have thought you to be one of those knobheads who ramble on and on about how liking blokes is a sin and whatnot. That´s all utter rubbish if you ask me. Love whoever you want to love, that´s my motto.”</p><p>“Very well said, Roger.”, Brian had piped up, his tone serious but a smile visible on his features as he approvingly nodded at John. </p><p>“There you go, Bri´s on my side as well.”, Roger had said with a grin. </p><p>“That´s what I think too.”, John had been quick to add, which had earned him another slightly drunk shoulder-squeeze from Roger, who seemed quite pleased with his answer. </p><p>“There you go, Deaks! You truly are the right fit for this band!”</p><p>It should have been a compliment, leaving him feeling good, like he belonged, but as he laid awake on that night, crammed into the back of the van with Roger and Brian who had long been fast asleep, it had made him feel slightly sad for some reason. </p><p>I´m just like Freddie!, he wanted to tell Roger. I´m just the same!, he wanted to yell into their faces.</p><p>He wanted for them to accept him, to appreciate him in the way they appreciated the singer, wanted to feel understood, to feel safe and seen. </p><p>But then, how could he tell them, how could he admit to it, when he couldn´t even admit it to himself? How could he talk to Freddie about the way he was feeling, about understanding exactly how the singer felt, when he couldn´t even understand himself?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another day, another chapter!<br/>Because hey, who needs an uploading schedule when you can just post stuff as soon as you get done with it before the craziness of next week´s uni work would surely ruin it all.<br/>Thank you to everyone who left kudos and/or commented!<br/>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the days and weeks went on, John felt more and more weighed down by his secret. </p><p>Nights out after their gigs weren´t fun anymore because with every hour that went by, every hour he spent drinking, chatting to girls, pretending to laugh and have fun while he watched Freddie leave the bar or the pub with a total stranger, he felt worse about himself. </p><p>He developed a habit of staying at the venue for one hour, maybe two, to then excuse himself, telling a lie of being tired or having had a little bit too much to drink. And none of them questioned it because he was Deaky, small, little Deaky, only 19, who should be in bed by now anyways. </p><p>Nobody questioned his desire to go back to the van to sleep. </p><p>And so, John once again found himself walking back to the van alone, a little dizzy from the drinks he had had, shivering in the icy drizzle that fell down from the dark night sky, making the grass and earth under his clogs go soggy. He made his way over to the van, which they had parked on an unkept meadow close to the pub they would be playing at on the night to come. </p><p>He opened the side door with the keys and crawled into the back, taking off his shoes and jacket, grabbing one of the flashlights that lay in the front seat.</p><p>He took off his clammy clothes, the light-washed jean-shirt and brown corduroy flared trousers he had been wearing, hanging them up over one of the car seats to dry. Then he got into his sleeping clothes, well, the gigantic knitted jumper that his mum had made for him and that he packed for every trip, without fail. </p><p>It was several sizes too big, which meant that it almost came up to his thigs and even though he was only wearing his boxers underneath, it meant that at least his top half was warm. </p><p>John crawled into one of the sleeping bags and pulled the zipper up to his nose, trying to get comfortable. It had started to rain much harder and the sound of the drops hitting the roof of the van was slowly making him sleepy, slowly soothing him into a comfortable state of drowsing. </p><p>That’s was until the back door of the van was opened and the sound of the rain got a lot louder, a shadow suddenly towering over John. </p><p>He jerked awake, quickly sitting up, his heart hammering in his chest, but as his eyes adjusted to the pale light of the far-off streetlight shining in through the opened door, he recognized a familiar face, kind dark eyes looking down on him, high cheekbones framed by black, slightly frizzy hair, the sliver of front teeth peeking out from Freddie´s upper lip as he smiled at him. </p><p>“Freddie?”, John groaned, sounding quite groggy with tiredness.</p><p>“Hello darling, are you feeling alright? Sorry, didn´t mean to wake you up.”, Freddie asked in a hushed voice and crawling into the space in the back of the van, coming to sit down right next to John. </p><p>“It´s okay, wasn´t really sleeping yet.”, John said, suddenly slightly embarrassed of the fact that Freddie had been worried about him, as he had ran off into the night to sulk in the van like a stubborn child. Because really, that´s what he was actually doing. </p><p>“But are you alright, though?”, Freddie asked softly, not seeming the least bit bothered by the fact that he had walked over to the van in the rain. </p><p>John could see drops of it shimmering in the singer´s midnight-black hair, the moisture making it curl around his face in a way that Freddie himself hated but John loved. The bassist secretly admired the Persian´s thick, wavy head of hair and suffered a little, every time Freddie tortured it with a flattening iron, desperately trying to alter his appearance in a way that made his non-western background less obvious to the casual observer. </p><p>“Yes, of course.”, he replied quickly, to mask the fact that he had been staring at the other man. </p><p>“Oh, I´m relieved.”, Freddie said with a fond smile, leaning his back against the inner side of the closed door and stretching out his legs, his thigh casually touching John´s own leg, “You know, when you said you weren´t feeling too well, I actually thought about offering to walk you back to the van, stay with you. But then I didn´t want to be overbearing, you´re not a child after all.”</p><p>He gave John another heart-felt smile in the dark, his front teeth peeking out from under his upper lip. John watched him run a hand through his damp hair and then sigh, taking off the yellow and black striped blazer he has worn for the night, leaving him in a thin, white blouse with short sleeves. </p><p>John wondered how the Persian wasn´t incredibly cold. </p><p>“But you looked so…sad when you went…Like something was weighing you down. I couldn´t let you sit in here all by yourself, I had to check on you.”, Freddie added in softly and John felt warmth spreading inside of his chest, the pleasant feeling slowly pooling in his stomach. </p><p>“Fred…that´s so sweet of you, thank you.”, he whispered shyly, once again, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. </p><p>Freddie, ever the caring friend, slowly inched a little closer to him, his dark eyes fixed onto John´s pale face. Feeling Freddie so close, sensing how much he cared for his wellbeing, was an incredibly addictive sensation to John. </p><p>If only it could always be like this…</p><p>If only he could be brave enough to tell Freddie. He wouldn´t have to barge right in and come clean about the feelings he had come to harvest for the other man. Maybe he could go about it carefully, slowly, let Freddie know how much it meant to him to feel so cared-for, so appreciated by him…</p><p>“Are you really alright, darling? I can get you some water if you´d like some?”, the singer offered, but John simply shook his head with a small smile. </p><p>“I´m absolutely fine. I was…just feeling a little tired, that´s all.”, he explained and then nodded over towards the now closed door of the van. “Y-you can go back out if you want to. I´ll be alright.”<br/>
The singer simply scoffed and shook his head. </p><p>“Oh, don´t be silly, dear. I won´t just go back in there. Besides…I`m not really feeling it tonight…I´m a bit tired myself.”, he gave John a genuine smile, “I´d rather stay here…with you.”<br/>
“Oh…that´s lovely. Thanks Fred.”, John stammered, blushing a little in the half-dark of the van. </p><p>“Let me get off those shoes and damp clothes…”, Freddie muttered, already busy with pulling off his suede shoes, as well as his blouse, leaving him in his white, ribbed undershirt and satin trousers only. </p><p>They both laid down again, getting comfortable and enjoying the added space that their friends absence provided them with. The sound of the rain drumming onto the roof of the van was incredibly calming. </p><p>John couldn´t help but shyly glance at the other man, hoping that the dark would conceal his direct gaze and the way it clung to Freddie´s veiny forearms, now exposed to the slightly cold air. His undershirt had hiked up a little, now showing a strip of tan belly, the small, tight navel surrounded by a fuzzy swirl of dark body hair that looked incredibly soft. </p><p>John imagine stretching out his hand, running his fingers over the patch of skin, touching it, feeling it, wandering up towards the singer´s chest and the perky nubs of his nipples, standing erect in the cold, visible under the cotton material of the thin item of clothing. </p><p>He shivered at the directness of his fantasy, slightly shocked with how easy it was for him to completely lose himself in it. </p><p> “Deaky?”, Freddie suddenly asked, John snapping out of his thoughts, his eyes finding those of the singer, “Darling, are you cold?”, Freddie asked, inching a little closer. There was an intensity in his dark eyes, a small but significant rough edge to his voice. </p><p> “You shivered quite badly…”, Freddie added and John watched him push a thick strand of black hair behind his air, unknowingly exposing his strong jawline to the dim light of the street light coming in through the window in the backdoors of the car. </p><p>“Yes…”, John answered, his voice slightly hoarse, “I´m freezing…”</p><p>It was a lie, but then, hadn´t Freddie been the one who had laid the words into his mouth? And didn´t Freddie know? Didn´t he know that John was lying because he wanted him to lie, wanted to get closer?</p><p>The bassist´s nerve endings were tingling, as Freddie finally came as close as possible, pulling John into his arms, so they lay facing one another. </p><p>“Let me keep you warm, Deaks.”, he whispered, his hands gently running up and down John´s upper arms, rubbing warmth into the skin, even though the barrier of John´s thick jumper stayed put. </p><p>For a few seconds, the younger man didn´t dare to look up, felt his hands getting sweaty, felt them shaking with nervousness as his brain tried to catch up with what has happening. He could smell the musky zest of Freddie´s cologne, a bottle he saved up for every few months, he could feel his heat, feel his breath coming in soft, warm puffs, smelling of liquor and mints and oh God, John felt like he could lose his mind from how…how much he wanted the other man. </p><p>Slowly, he raised his head and found the Persian looking at him, already looking. There was a moment of absolute silence, of stillness. Freddie´s eyes looked like black opals in the dark and John´s gaze mapped out the fine line of his brows, a slight furrow to them. </p><p>The corner of Freddie´s mouth jumped up into a soft, awkward smile, but before the singer could laugh the moment off, John leaned in and kissed him. </p><p>Freddie´s lips were dry, warm and slightly chapped and John could feel the curve of the smile against his mouth, slowly dying down as Freddie went rigid, unmoving and then, after a heartbeat, became soft and pliant under the touch. </p><p>John felt his heart hammering in his chest like one of Roger´s drum solos and as he pulls back, Freddie´s eyes looked at him in disbelieve.  </p><p>“Darling…wh-… ?”, he whispered softly and extended one of his hands, placing it on John´s heated cheek, his thumb gently running over the bassist´s cheekbone. </p><p>“Don´t ask questions…”, John whispered, swallowing against the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. He wouldn´t have known the answer, to any of them. </p><p>“I won´t.”, Freddie replied quickly and, in his eyes, John could see that he understood, that he knew exactly what John felt like. </p><p>His fingers shook when he placed a hand onto the singer´s naked shoulder, feeling the warm, soft skin under the pads of his fingers. </p><p>“Can I…can I kiss you again?”, John asked, his voice barely a whisper and watched Freddie give the tiniest nod, before he leaned in once more. </p><p>Freddie sighed, when their lips touched and leaned into the kiss. Heat pooled low in John´s belly, as he realised that the Persian seemed to want this as much as he did. Soon, the innocent contact gained momentum, a certain heat causing the both of them to cling to one another much tighter, as the singer´s tongue slipped into John´s mouth, licking and teasing, making John feel weak in the knees. </p><p>He grew braver with each passing moment, allowing himself to indulge in these little games of lips, tongue and teeth, breathing harder through his nose, as his senses were filled with Freddie, oh god, Freddie. </p><p>John felt a familiar sensation low in his belly, the pleasant pull of lust, pooling lower, his cock beginning to harden in his boxers. Kissing girls had never even come close to what this was like. </p><p>Before he even noticed it, he had gotten so close that he was practically on top of the other man, elbows placed left and right of the Persian´s head and suddenly, there were Freddie´s hands on his hips, pulling him closer so he was now straddling him. </p><p>His thin boxers did nothing to hide the raging boner he was sporting and when he moved slightly, a small thrust of his hips, mostly involuntary, he could feel the distinct bulge in the other man´s pants, strained under his own erection. </p><p>John had a hard time keeping his hands to himself, his palms wandering up and down Freddie´s arms, his chest, his slim waist, as he felt the singer´s own hands slowly travelling upwards under the hem of his jumper, squeezing his hips with warm, experienced palms. </p><p>It was a touch that made him tingle all over, made him sweat, made it unable for him to stay still. </p><p>“Freddie…”, John groaned against the singer´s mouth in between kisses. </p><p>“Yeah?”, Freddie sounded incredibly breathless as he pulled back a little, his eyes hooded, his lips kiss-swollen and red. </p><p>The singer´s hands had now fully wandered under John´s jumper, his fingertips pressing into the skin on the bassists back, making him shiver once again. </p><p>“I want you…”, John whispered, the words burning hotly on his lips. </p><p>Freddie blinked up at him and swallowed thickly. </p><p>“Y-you want me?”, he repeated John´s words, almost as if he was a little shocked by them. </p><p>And why wouldn´t he be? He knew John as being quiet, shy, polite, someone who silently observed, who was afraid of holding eye-contact for too long and blushed at compliments. </p><p>But for a long time, John had felt like this wasn´t him anymore. Maybe it was time to show it to the man he had desired for months now. </p><p>“Yes.”, he replied hoarsely, “I want you…so much…”</p><p>And with those words, he rolled his hips, pressed down his crotch against Freddie´s, feeling the other man´s warm, full bulge against his own crotch. He felt clumsy while doing it, like a puppy letting out his first bark, but god, it felt good and as he repeated the movement, Freddie gave a soft moan and clearly met John´s movement with his hips. </p><p>John stopped and looked down at the other man, saw the heat in his dark eyes, the want, the urgency of his desire and couldn´t quite believe that those emotions were directed at him, plain little Deaky.<br/>
“Keep going…”, Freddie whispered at him, his gaze never leaving John´s, “Feels good…”</p><p>It was all the encouragement that John needed to start moving again. Slowly, he began rolling his hips once more, getting a hang of it, of what his body needed, urging him to move, as he alternated in speed and pressure, listening to the soft little hitched in Freddie´s breath, the moans that slipped from his own lips. </p><p>John leaned down to kiss Freddie again, groaning against his lips as his friend raised one on his knees a little, pushing his thigh against the bassist´s groin. </p><p>Their kisses grew heated, impatient almost, their lips hungry, teeth nipping, tongues fighting for dominance and Freddie´s hands started pushing up John´s sweater, bunching it up at the back, while his other hand travelled up the bassist´s chest, his fingers hungrily brushing over the sparse, blondish hair that grew on John´s breastbone and around his nipples, which quickly hardened into sensible little pecks. </p><p>“Off…off, darling…”, Freddie groaned as he tried pulling up the sweater and John couldn´t help but giggle as the neckline got stuck on his ears. </p><p>“That´s better.”, the singer chuckles, as the younger man´s flushed face resurfaced, his long hair a mess, his fringe sticking up into all directions. </p><p>He suddenly got very self-conscious as he sat on Freddie´s lap, needy and hard in his boxers, the faint glow of the streetlight illuminating his pale skin, sprinkled in moles in freckles, not much body hair and even less muscle, all gangly and skinny and boyish. </p><p>But Freddie seemed to think different of it, as he leaned down and started kissing a line over his collar bone, pressing the tip of his slim, narrow nose against John´s skin, making him shiver.<br/>
He thoroughly seemed to enjoy touching John, being this close to him, even if it baffled the younger man. </p><p>How could Freddie, Freddie fucking Mercury, want him, desire him?</p><p>John decided to stop his mind from getting into all of those self-doubting thoughts. Instead, he scooted back a little and his shaking hands reached for the button and fly of the singer´s satin trousers. </p><p>Freddie moaned loudly, as John pushed his hand into the tightness of his pants and carefully felt for the outline of the singer´s hard cock. </p><p>It shouldn´t be much different from when he had a wank, should it?<br/>
Freddie had a dick, just like him. But oh, how much more exciting it felt to touch the other man, to hastily try to pull down those incredibly tight pants and his underwear, until he could finally close his jittery fingers around the Persian´s length. </p><p>John didn´t know why, but there was something so satisfying, so addictive about touching the smooth, slightly veiny skin of the shaft, the damp head, clumsily thumbing at the foreskin, making Freddie hiss. </p><p>He frantically tried to remember what felt good to him, what he usually did when he touched himself and so he raised his palm towards his mouth and spat into it, before he hesitantly closed his wet fingers around Freddie´s cock again, his touches focusing on the head, up and down, which had the singer shivering and groaning. </p><p>Seeing him like this gave John such a rush of confidence, such a boost, that he felt himself blushing with it. God, how good it felt to know that what he was doing was giving the other man such pleasure!<br/>
John looked down at Freddie, the singer´s head slightly leaned back, lashes fluttering, lips slightly agape, but then he seemed to sense John´s gaze on him and opened his eyes, looking up at him, those dark orbs burning with intensity. </p><p>A smile spread on his lips, dazed almost, his plush lips shimmering wetly in the dim light. </p><p>“You´re good at this, darling…”, he purred, as if he had sensed how much John thrived on the encouragement, how much he needed it right now. </p><p>One of Freddie´s hands travelled up John´s bony chest, up his neck and towards his cheek, where he gently, tenderly almost stroked the bassist´s flushed skin with his thumb, an intimate softness to his touch that resonated with the younger man. </p><p>“Really?”, John heard himself asking, even though he could have slapped himself for how needy, how insecure he sounded. </p><p>But Freddie only chuckled at his words, keeping the fond smile on his lips as his hands wandered down towards the elastic waistband of John´s boxers. </p><p>“Yes, darling. Come on, get those off, I´d like to touch you as well.”, he whispered hotly and John nodded and then quickly, clumsily pulled down his boxers, embarrassed at the way his cock almost sprung free, incredibly hard and already leaking precum, as he almost got his legs tangles when taking his underwear off properly. </p><p>He watched Freddie lick his fingers and palm, gracefully, his pink little tongue quick, his touch sensual, as he closed his hands around John´s member and the bassists couldn´t supress the moan that escaped his lips. </p><p>It felt like his head was spinning, his heart hammering in his chest as he felt the skilled touch of the singer´s hand. He shivered, his body leaning into the caress, his breath coming in hard little huffs. </p><p>He moaned helplessly, pressed his lips together to keep himself from being so loud when Freddie´s touches focused on the head in an almost playful rhythm. John´s brain barely managed to tell his hand to keep on moving, to keep on touching Freddie, clumsily fumbling and rubbing. </p><p>“Hang on, let me try something…”, Freddie suddenly whispered and then lifted his hand up to his mouth and spat into his palm again, before, to John´s great surprise, he closed his long, slender fingers around both of their cocks, their members now side by side as he jerked them off at the same time. </p><p>John barely supressed a whimper of pleasure, the feeling of Freddie´s hot skin against his incredibly mind-blowing, overwhelming almost. </p><p>“How´s that?”, the Persian asked, sounding a little breathless himself. </p><p>“Oh…oh God…”, John babbled as Freddie kept on jerking the both of them off, his cock warm and pulsing, pressing against the bassist´s skin. </p><p>“Good?”, Freddie asked, pushing up a little, his dark eyes watching John intently. </p><p>“Yeah…fuck…”, John swore, shocked at his sudden ability to use rude words just like that. </p><p>Freddie let out a laugh, soft and airy, full of surprise and John couldn´t help but lean in again to kiss him, to capture the warmth of his breath with his hungry lips and the singer moaned against his mouth, a sound so filthily honest that it made John groan as well. </p><p>Soon, all of Freddie expertise and skill got lost in the heat of the moment, as they rutted against one another, their skin growing slick with sweat, their movements becoming more urgent, humping and pushing and chasing the high of the sensation, touch and pressure, of speed and momentum. </p><p>It got messy and quick, the singer´s hand disappearing as their bodies simply slid against one another. John was shaking with pleasure, overstimulated but still chasing the high, gasping for breath when the singer places his lips on his neck, licking and sucking on his skin. </p><p>Freddie let his legs slide open all the way and as John ground down against him once again his cock brushes against the Persian´s balls, warm and heavy, the skin feeling silky and slightly fuzzy at the same time as the tip of John´s member slid between his cheeks and nudged against Freddie´s entrance. </p><p>John moaned loudly, helpless almost to the pleasure he was experiencing. It was as if they had crossed a line, previously invisible. But none of them seemed willing to stop there. </p><p>Freddie looked up at him with big, brown eyes, a smidge of uncertainty tainting his features. </p><p>“I´ve got Vaseline…in my bag…”, he said quickly, breathlessly, “I can get it…if you´re up for it…”</p><p>There was a split-second before John even realised what he was talking about, what his friend was implying. </p><p>For a moment, he panicked. Oh shit, this was happening! It really was happening! Here he was, with Freddie, his friend Freddie and in a few minutes, after the singer had worked whatever magic he needed to do with his Vaseline, he would be having sex with him. Proper sex. John couldn´t quite believe it. </p><p>But God, he really wanted to, even though the thought of it made him incredibly nervous. </p><p>“Yeah…yeah course I am…”, he said quickly, nodding, a little awkward as Freddie wedged himself out him under him and then scrambled around the back of the van, naked but for his undershirt, which he was still wearing, rummaging through his travel bag. </p><p>Freddie quickly returned, pressing a sweet kiss onto John´s naked and slightly sweaty shoulder blade and then positioned himself under the bassist again. </p><p>“It´s kind of like with a girl, it´s just…You´ve done anal with a girl before, haven´t you?”, he asked, already unscrewing the small container. </p><p>John felt himself blushing. </p><p>“Em…n-not really, I…”, he stammered, feeling how the palms of his hands were getting sweaty.</p><p>Freddie gave him a reassuring smile, pressing another kiss onto his skin, this time his cheek. </p><p>“Hang on, I´ll do it myself, I´ll be quick…”</p><p>John hastily grabbed the singer´s wrist and shook his head.<br/>
“No no, I want to do it…”, he said urgently, intently holding the Persian´s gaze, who gave him a small nod. </p><p>It was all a wild guess from there on, but somehow, John managed to coat his pointer finger in Vaseline and then he slowly, hesitantly pressed the tip of it against Freddie´s entrance. </p><p>“Careful yeah…”, Freddie whispered in the dark and John lifted up his gaze again and nodded at the singer. </p><p>Freddie took a deep breath, leaning back into the pillows as John slowly, very timidly pushed the tip of his pointer finger into the other man´s tight, warm heat. </p><p>Freddie´s breath hitched slightly and as John couldn´t really see what he was doing, he simply had to go with the signals his lover was giving him. Slowly, he pushed his finger in deeper and a little deeper still, until he felt it fully sheathed into the other man. </p><p>“Ahhh…”, Freddie moaned, but it didn´t sound pained. John´s gaze travelled up and he found that the singer had started leaking drops of precum onto his stomach, some of it shimmering wetly in the glow of the streetlight, wetting the material of his undershirt. </p><p>“Move it around a little bit…like when you´re fingering a girl…”, Freddie asked and hummed in pleasure as John did what he had been told, even though he really had a hard time hiding  that he, in fact, had never done such a thing with a girl. </p><p>Clumsily, he started to push a little, then withdraw again, the pad of his finger stroking against the warm, tight heat of the other man´s body. </p><p>“Put in a second one please…”, Freddie asked, reaching forward with his hand to give John´s lower arm a reassuring little squeeze. The bassists coated his middle finger in Vaseline and after he had inserted it as well, he simply decided to mime the movements he usually did when playing his bass. </p><p>And it seemed to work wonders. </p><p>“That´s lovely…”, Freddie sighed, pushing down his hips against the movements of John´s hand. </p><p>“It is?”, John asked timidly. </p><p>The next sound the singer made was half-moan, half-chuckle and John decided that it was about the hottest thing he had heard in his whole life. </p><p>“Yeah it is, you little tease.”, Freddie purred, raising up his head again, to look at John, “Put another one in…”</p><p>John flushed with the excitement over the praise and as he had inserted the third finger, it didn´t take long for Freddie to grow a little restless. </p><p>“I´m ready, darling…”, he moaned and carefully, John withdrew his fingers. </p><p>Freddie grabbed the container of Vaseline, reached down between them and them coated John´s prick with a layer of it. </p><p>“It´ll work better that way…”, he explained hastily, but John simply shut him up with a kiss, moaning against his lips when Freddie gave his balls an experimental little squeeze. </p><p>The bassist drew back, and in this moment, he realised that yes, they were actually going to do this. </p><p>He lined himself up in front of the singer, Freddie lithe body laid out in front of him like a feast and then the bassists decided to go for it, positioning himself, his sweaty hands clinging to the singer´s hips for dear life. </p><p>John moaned brokenly as he finally, slowly, pushed into the other man´s hole. </p><p>Christ, there was no other feeling like this, nothing he had every experienced before had felt this heavenly, this wonderful!</p><p>It was tight, incredibly tight and hot and all John wanted to do right now, was to move, to thrust, his hips stuttering as he gasped for breath. It was pleasurable, but to a degree that was almost too much, too much to bear, too much for him to take in. </p><p>Almost as if he was in a trance, he heard Freddie moaning, his hands grabbing the bassist´s skinny upper arms tightly, as John started to move. His body seemed to have developed it´s own will, his hips snapping up in such a haste, that John could barely catch his breath. </p><p>Fuck, this was…it was…incredible it was…God, it felt amazing…</p><p>John squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth, all of his thoughts coming to a halt as he felt himself floating up higher and higher, gaining momentum, up and up and up, gasping for breath, the slapping of skin, the hammering of his heartbeat echoing in his ears, heat making his face grow flushed and yes, fuck yes, this was heaven, this was…it was…oh shit, he was going to…</p><p>“Freddie…”, he moaned brokenly and as he managed to open his eyes, he saw the other man below him, flushed and sweaty, breathing out harshly with each of John´s thrusts, his eyes half closed, the literal image of sin. </p><p>“Yes darling…”, the singer moaned, his hips snapping up to meet John´s movements, pushing against him, groaning gutturally, as John pushed into him once, twice, three times and a fourth before his hips started stuttering, his thrust getting erratic, faster, more shallow and fuck, oh fuck, he was going to explode, he was going to…to…</p><p>“Gonna c-…”, John managed to blabber, but then his whole body went rigid and white, hot pleasure engulfed him as he came, shivering and jittering and moaning through the heights of his lust until, after a few moments of absolute bliss, he sank down against Freddie´s sweaty body, eyes closed, face hidden in the crook of the Persian´s neck, grasping for breath like a fish out of water. </p><p>For a few seconds, there was nothing but ultimate silence, a faint ringing in John´s ears, absolute content as he tried to catch his breath, blissfully unaware of his slowly approaching shame. </p><p>“Oh dear, that was quick…”, Freddie said, a little laugh swinging in the melody of his voice, his chest vibrating with it under John´s cheek and that was when the bassists realised. </p><p>Oh no…oh no, he really had…</p><p>Hot shame washed over him as it dawned on him how quickly he must have come. How long had it been? Five minutes? No, less…Three maybe…Two?</p><p>Blushing crimson red, he raised his head and looked down at Freddie´s flushed but quite amused face. </p><p>“Shit…”, he whispers hastily, “I´m sorry, I didn´t mean to…”</p><p>Freddie chuckled softly and then placed a comforting hand onto the younger man´s cheek.<br/>
“It´s okay, it´s okay, darling! It´s alright…”, he said softly, but the words were no comfort to John. </p><p>He withdrew himself, his cock now flaccid and ugly to look at, as he clumsily laid down next to Freddie, as close as possible, his worried eyes clinging to the singer´s every expression. </p><p>Still, Freddie did not seem angry, not even annoyed. He just stretched, like an overly large cat, popping his back, his cock still so very hard, letting out a little sigh, seemingly quite content and comfortable. </p><p>John felt tired, slightly spaced out even, but there was one thing he still wanted to do. He wanted to make the Persian come as well. </p><p>Timidly, he placed a hand onto the singer´s hairy thigh, his finger´s slowly travelling upward. </p><p>“Freddie…”, he asked quietly, “I´d like to…”</p><p>The singer´s dark eyes met his, greyish-green on chocolate-brown and then Freddie smirked at him. </p><p>“Give me your hand…”, he asked in a low, purring voice and as John did, he guided it towards his mouth, slowly, very sensually licking a long, wet stripe over his fingers, before he slowly pushed it down again, until John´s digits closed around the singer´s erection, Freddie´s hand on top of his. </p><p>He started moving his hand, quickly, messily almost, lot´s of pressure on the head, which felt moist and hot against John´s fingers. </p><p>“Like this…Can you keep doing that?”, Freddie asked and John nodded. The singer withdrew his hand and instead placed one of them onto his chest, deftly rubbing his thumb over one his nipples, which made heat pool low in the pit of John´s stomach. </p><p>The singer didn´t need long. As John tried to keep up the speed and pressure, he started to grow restless, his head thrown back, breathing hard and moaning softly.</p><p>“You´re gonna make me come, darling…”, he whispered, whimpered almost and breathlessly, John watched him pinch one of his perky nipples, pinching it hard, before he moaned brokenly, unashamedly loud, his hot, wet release coating John´s shaking fingers. </p><p>Slowly, carefully, he withdrew his hand and for a second, watched the milky substance on his fingers, toying with the thought of licking off the cum, of tasting it, tasting Freddie. The thought was so incredibly filthy that he felt his cock stir. </p><p>Before his urges would take over, John quickly wiped his hand on his pair of boxers that had been laying around close to them. </p><p>“Deaky…”, Freddie´s words made him look up. The singer looked divine, absolutely blissed out and flushed, his face practically glowing with a post-orgasmic haze. </p><p>Freddie was making grabby hands at him and John smiles shyly, butterflies dancing in his stomach as he laid down next to the other man, feeling himself being taken into the Persian´s arms.<br/>
The singer kissed him softly and as he felt the other man´s warm, soft skin on his, it almost seemed to be too good to be true, simply perfect, absolutely lovely and wonderful and…</p><p>“That was my first time…”</p><p>As the words had left his lips, John immediately felt like slapping himself in the face. As his brain caught up with his mouth, he watched the smile on the singer´s face disappear, his mouth turning into a little o of stunned silence, simply blinking at him. </p><p>“I beg your pardon?”, he asked, slowly, shock making his features go slack and John, feeling utterly ashamed, sat up, somehow trying to keep his dignity.</p><p>“John…Darling, I didn´t…I thought…”</p><p>“You don´t have to say anything, sorry, it was silly of me to even tell you…”, John murmured, struggling to push down the urge of hiding his face in his hands. </p><p>Suddenly, there was an expression of worry, panic almost on the singer´s features as he sat up as well, placing a hand onto John´s upper arm.</p><p>“Deaky…this wasn´t your first kiss, right? You have kissed someone before?”, he asked, his eyes shimmering with something that John could only interpret as pity. And it made him angry. </p><p>“Course I did, Freddie, you were there! Kissed a lot of girls before! I´m not 12, you know…”, he snapped back at his friend. </p><p>“Sorry…I just thought…”, Freddie stammered, slowly withdrawing his hand, but John just shook his head at him. </p><p>“I´m sick of you guys thinking I´m nothing but a stupid child! I might be younger than you, but that doesn´t mean I don´t have my own experiences…and thoughts…and opinions…”, he continued and the expression on the singer´s features grew much softer. </p><p>“I know that, Deaky…I know…I´m sorry, okay?”, he said, intently holding John´s gaze. </p><p>John cleared his throat, still feeling so very embarrassed. </p><p>“Okay…”, he murmured, already feeling quite bad about the harshness in his words, but then Freddie didn´t seem to be done yet, the worry back in his eyes as he looked at John. </p><p>“I should have known…Deaks, I´m sorry.”, he stammered, almost fussing over John as he brushed back his long hair from his shoulder, “God, this isn´t right.”, Freddie shook his head, looking back up at John, “Your first time should have been with a girl…”</p><p>The bassist rolled his eyes and shook his head at the panic the singer seemed to be feeling. </p><p>He found it ridiculous. What was Freddie making such a fuss about?</p><p>“Do you think you´ve now corrupted me or something…?”, he asked in a slightly tense tone, but Freddie barely seemed to hear him. </p><p>“No, but…Oh god, John…”, he murmured, but the younger man had heard enough. </p><p>“Maybe I didn´t want it to be with a girl. Maybe I wanted it to be with a guy!”, he replied, his hands raised in anger. </p><p>“I should have stopped…I should have noticed…”, Freddie kept on murmuring. </p><p>John sighed, rubbing his hand over his tired eyes, which, to his great frustration, started to burn with tears. He felt like crying. He felt cold and embarrassed and vulnerable, ugly and scrawny and downright ridiculous. </p><p>“You really don´t get it, don´t you Fred?”, he murmured and as he looked back at his friend, he saw something like sadness in his dark eyes. </p><p>“I´m sorry…I´m sorry that I did this to you, I…”, Freddie just murmured. </p><p>“Did this to me?! Fred, what are you talking about?”, he asked, but then he just shook his head, “You know what? I´m not. I´m not sorry that it happened…because I liked it!”, he added, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence, his hands shaking. </p><p>“John, don´t get me wrong I…”, Freddie started, wanting to touch him again, but John jerked away from it. </p><p>“No, I don´t…I don´t want to hear it, okay? I´m just…I´m tired…”, he murmured and then grabbed his soiled boxers and his jumper and put them back on, before he crawled into his sleeping and chose the spot farthest from the singer to lay down, only his back facing him. </p><p>“John…”, he heard Freddie saying softly, but he wanted to hear none of it. </p><p>“Leave me alone, Fred.”, he simply murmured. </p><p>He heard Freddie sigh and then the rustling of clothes, the singer probably getting dressed again. Then he left the van, staying outside for a good ten minutes, probably smoking, before he came back inside and crawled into his own sleeping bag. </p><p>John couldn´t help but listen to his breathing, to he way he tossed and turned, but no more words were exchanged between them. </p><p>Even though he felt awfully cold, he somehow managed to sink into a light slumber, that only got disturbed when after a while, John didn´t really know how much later, he heard the door of the van opening again. </p><p>“Where´s Rog?”, Freddie asked, his voice sounding quite groggy. </p><p>“Went off with a girl…Will probably be back tomorrow morning.”, John heard Brian say in a low whisper, “What have you been up to?”</p><p>“Deaky wasn´t feeling well, just went to look after him and then fell asleep myself.”, Freddie said quickly and John almost felt like snickering. </p><p>Sometimes it was almost scary how good of a liar Freddie was, but then he was seeing other man behind his girlfriends back, hiding a whole part of his life from her, so maybe, he had gotten used to it by now, the lying a part of his every-day-life.</p><p>John despised the thought of living like this. Still, he refrained from judging Freddie for it. Sometimes, things just weren´t as easy as they seemed. </p><p>“Is he asleep now?”, Brian asked, sounding quite worried. </p><p>“Yeah, I think so.”, John heard Freddie replying. </p><p>“Good. Hope he´s not getting sick. Always feel like we need to look out for him a bit more, he´s our youngest after all.”, the guitarist said and John felt his heart clench a little at how much his friend seemed to care for him after all. </p><p>Brian had always been the voice of reason between the four of them and just like Freddie and Roger, he always seemed to be on the look out for him. </p><p>John heard the slight whisper of clothes being taken off, as Brian undressed and then laid down next to him with a little sigh. </p><p>“No warming each other tonight then. Best let John sleep over there of he´s feeling a little under the weather.”, the bassist heard Brian whisper. </p><p>“Brian, I…”, John could hear the discomfort in Freddie´s voice.</p><p>“Fred, don´t look at me like that, no need to panic…It´s just…Roger and I…we´ve noticed. That´s all.”, Brian replied in a warm tone. </p><p>“I know, I shouldn´t…I know it´s…he´s…”, the singer stammered and John closed his eyes in defeat. </p><p>“Freddie, he might be young but he knows what he wants. There´s nothing wrong about it.”, he heard Brian saying, cracking an eye open in surprise. </p><p>Had Brian really taken his side here?</p><p>“I don´t know, Brimi…”, the singer murmured. </p><p>“Don´t get all caught up your head, yeah Fred? It´s okay…it´ll all be okay.”, the guitarist said softly and right now, John could have kissed him for how grateful he was for those words of encouragement.</p><p>“Well, if you say so, Bri.”, he heard Freddie murmuring. </p><p>“Yes I do, Fred. Now get some sleep. You look exhausted.”, Brian said softly. </p><p>“Alright…”</p><p>John could hear the rusting of a sleeping bag being closed. </p><p>“Night Fred.”, the guitarist said quietly. </p><p>“Good night, Brimi.”, Freddie replied softly. </p><p>“Night Brian…”, John whispered, pretty sure that the other man hadn´t heard him, but Brian turned around and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. </p><p>To the bassist´s surprise, he didn´t seem to mind that John had heard every word of what they were saying. Maybe Brian had wanted him to, had hoped for it.</p><p>“Good night, John, sleep tight. Hope you´ll feel better come tomorrow.”</p><p>And even though the fondness and warmth in the other man´s voice made his heart clench, he felt incredibly alone, bundled up in his sleeping back, rubbing his freezing feet against one another to warm them up a little. </p><p>Oh, how truly miserable this November was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hey folks,<br/>here it is, the last chapter of my first ever Deacury story! I really hope you enjoy, darlings! Tell me what you thought of it in the comments!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the following weekends, Freddie kept his distance from John like it was his only purpose in life. </p><p>At first, John had gone along with it, simply because it was easy to stay stubborn and silent around the other man, to avoid his gaze, to not return his slightly forced, wonky smiles. </p><p>It was easy to pretend to be angry at him, giving him the cold shoulder, even on stage, so that during the next few gigs, Freddie had quite the hard time with staying out of John´s personal space, simply because he was so used to invading it. </p><p>But then, when John got back to the quiet and darkness of his uni room on Sunday evenings, he had to come to terms with how he really felt. </p><p>Freddie´s sudden awkwardness and insecurity around him made him feel nervous, made him fear, no, suspect, that his friend really did regret what had happened between them. </p><p>Sometimes he felt frustrated, with the way Freddie simply stayed silent, simply tried to carry on with how things had been before, simply refused to acknowledge it. </p><p>Sometimes he felt angry, angry with himself for not being strong, for not being mature enough to start the conversation himself, to just talk to Freddie, to just tell him how he felt, regardless of the singer´s reactions towards it, which he feared the most. </p><p>And sometimes, he just felt sad, so incredibly sad and hurt over the fact that Freddie just seemed to want to forget this moment that had been so incredibly special to John. Because he cherished it, those tender kisses, the feeling of being closer than ever before to the man he had come to admire so much, the sensation when Freddie had held him, those blissful, wonderful moments after his orgasm. </p><p>The memory was dear to him, so very dear and even though he knew that it was silly, childish even, he sometimes couldn´t help but shed a few tears when he lay alone in his bed, wearing the thick, warm jumper he had worn on that night, imagining that the smell of the singer still clung to it, if he pressed his nose into the woollen fabric and inhaled deeply. </p><p>It was hard, so incredibly hard to keep on seeing the Persian during band rehearsals, to keep on watching him on stage, to keep on sleeping next to him in the back of the van. </p><p>But as three weeks had past, as the days had gotten darker and colder, John started to develop a stubborn sense of determination, a burning wish to talk to Freddie, to at least have him acknowledge what had happened between them. </p><p>If Freddie wasn´t handling things like an adult, then maybe he had to. Well, at least do something about it, handling it in a way that John saw fit. To hell with the fear of behaving like an immature child, he couldn´t live with the silence anymore!</p><p>John started small. </p><p>He reclaimed his spot next to Freddie in the back of the van again, having previously slept closest to the door right next to Brian, he put his sleeping bag down to the singer´s right on that night and then went to sleep without commenting on Roger´s raised eyebrows, who by now certainly had noticed that something was going on as well and Freddie´s look of barely concealed panic. </p><p>Come on, Freddie, don´t be such a baby!, John thought, but couldn´t help for the slightly smug smile that spread on his lips as he turned around in his sleeping bag and went to sleep on that night.<br/>
Who was the adult here now?</p><p>On the next weekend, John decided to push things a little further. It was late, probably after midnight, when he took a deep, steadying breath, before he turned around to face Freddie in the dark.<br/>
To his surprise, the singer´s brown eyes were right on him, widening with shock as John´s gaze met his.</p><p>The bassist felt his stomach clench, felt his heartbeat speed up, felt himself blushing, but he refused to look away, his gaze resting steadily on the man next to him. </p><p>“I want you to know something…”, he whispered and saw Freddie leaning in a little closer to understand what he was saying, an expression of fixated nervousness on his face.<br/>
“I´m not angry with you…”, the bassist continued, “…not anymore…”</p><p>Freddie´s lips parted, helplessly searching for word, but John stopped him right in his tracks. </p><p>“That´s all I wanted to say.”, he whispered and watched Freddie shut his mouth, nervously pulling his upper lip over his front teeth. </p><p>“Good night, Fred.”, John said softly and then turned back around, listening to his hammering heartbeat echoing in his ears, wondering where this surge of bravery and those words had come from. Nonetheless, they were true. </p><p>He wasn´t angry, he just wanted to sort things out. </p><p>On the following morning, Freddie sat right next to him when they went to get breakfast at the pub, not shying away as their thighs accidentally touched, not avoiding John´s gaze anymore and when he shot John a genuine, toothy smile over his teacup, the bassist couldn´t deny that there were butterflies dancing in the pit of his stomach. </p><p>On this weekend, he was full of hope and full of light, full of dreams of a future where Freddie and him…oh dear, how wonderful it would be…</p><p>But then he was bitterly disappointed, when the singer made no attempt to talk to him, not even tried to start a conversation that would clear things up. </p><p>He stayed silent, nervous and slightly jittery around John, a wordless apology swinging in every smile, every meaningless word of every-day-conversation he directed at the bassist.<br/>
It was as if he seemed incapable of taking the first step, all brotherly and overbearing protectiveness crumbling into helpless apathy. </p><p>And so John decided to take matters into his own hands once again. </p><p>It was a particularly cold night in the van, the four of them huddled into the back, even Brian and Roger having decided to lay closer together, sharing body heat, which had both of them asleep within a few minutes. </p><p>But as always, when it was this cold, John couldn´t sleep. And he knew that it was the same for Freddie. As the bassist turned around, he could see the small of Freddie´s back, the sleeping bag pulled up so far that it was merely his head of thick, black hair that peeked out from the thick fabric.</p><p>Suddenly, a violent shiver ran down the body of the singer and he gave a little huff, obviously freezing. </p><p>“Are you cold, Fred?”, John asked, his voice a hushed whisper in the dark. </p><p>The Persian froze, all movement gone from his body, as if John´s voice had startled him. Then, he slowly turned around to look at John. </p><p>The faint glow of the streetlight fell onto Freddie´s features and John could see the conflict on them, the furrow in his brow, the way his front teeth bit into his lower lip. He was struggling. Struggling with himself, his morals, his very understanding of their relationship. </p><p>Because he knew what John was implying, what he was really asking. And it was so very conflicting to him. </p><p>John was sure of the fact that he was pushing the boundaries, once again trying to fight his way out of this role as the little brother, the innocent boy, the helpless, naïve child. </p><p>“Yeah…a little bit…”, the Persian suddenly whispered, defeat in his voice, vulnerability and fear, unhidden fear. </p><p>“Well…come here…”, John replied, feeling clumsy and childish while opening his arms a little, once again doubting himself, fearing that he was simply too awkward, too young, too…</p><p>Slowly, carefully almost, Freddie inched closer and then, let himself sink into John´s arms, his head coming to a rest on the younger man´s chest as John placed his hands onto his back.<br/>
Freddie was shivering, still shivering, but John knew that it wasn´t because he was cold. </p><p>John felt such a fondness for the other man warm his heart, felt the sudden urge to hold him, hold him as tightly as he could, to warm him, to make him feel safe. </p><p>Freddie might have been older than him, but that apparently did not mean that he was more mature. And as John held the singer, it felt like Freddie was allowing him to see a part of him that not many people had come in contact with. </p><p>Because behind the shell of flamboyance, extravagance and confidence, there seemed to be a boy, a shy boy with beautiful dark eyes, who was scared, scared of rejection, scared of himself even, of what he wanted, what he desired and who needed to be loved, needed to be held and cherished. </p><p>And god, knowing that Freddie shared this aspect of himself with him, allowing him to see it, felt ten times better than any forced conversation could have. </p><p>Holding Freddie like his, he didn´t feel like a stupid boy anymore. He felt like an equal to his friend, someone who he trusted and cherished and appreciated. </p><p>“Good night, darling.”, Freddie whispered against the skin of John´s neck and the bassist pressed a tender kiss to the crown of the singer´s head. </p><p>“Good night, Freddie.”</p><p>From then on, John stopped to try and force any kind of conversation. He stopped trying to run after Freddie, stopped trying to corner him up, stopped trying so hard altogether.<br/>
And as John stopped trying, Freddie seemed to grow much more comfortable around him. </p><p>Each night they both patiently waited for Roger and Brian to fall asleep, before, as if attached to one another by a string, they found their way into each other´s arms. Sometimes it was Freddie holding him, the singer spooning him, making him feel all warm and safe. Sometimes it was him holding Freddie, running his hands through the Persian´s thick, black hair, feeling the tension leave the other man´s body as he slowly, timidly, relaxed against John. </p><p>Brian and Roger didn´t comment on it, even if they surely did notice because at this point, even a blind and deaf man would have.<br/>
It was mid-December by now and as the end of the term came closer, all four of them started to basically drown in essays and projects to finish. Which of course, didn´t stop them from continuing their tour. </p><p>Slowly, John had started to enjoy those weekends that were packed to the brim with stuff to do, making music, studying in between, asking Brian for help with the citation rules and helping Roger memorise all of the names of the human teeth for his upcoming exam, snacking on the delicious Christmas cookies that John´s mum had sent him in a package that week and which he had brought on the trip. </p><p>The first snow was watery and rather grey, but it still didn´t stop them from trying to make some snowballs and throwing them at each other when they took a break from driving.<br/>
Their gigs were going great, turning into proper shows now and John felt his confidence rise with each time he stood on a stage. </p><p>“Well done, John!”, Brian said to him after one of the shows when they had gotten off the make-shift stage at a pub quite far up North, shivering with post-show adrenalin and their drying sweat as they quickly got changed in the unheated backroom of the pub. </p><p>“Yeah, you were brilliant, Deaks!”, Roger added, clapping his shoulder and grinning at him like a maniac, “I´m getting us some mulled wine!”</p><p>“Wouldn´t say no to some mulled wine…”, Brian mused. </p><p>“Then come and get some, you lame duck!”, Roger laughed, already dashing out of the room, the buttons of his shirt only half done up.  </p><p>“Hey, leave some for us as well!”, John shouted after them, giggling with excitement and as he turned his head, he noticed Freddie standing right next to him. </p><p>He was still wearing his show-outfit, a tight set of a black and white satin pants and matching trousers, clinging to his long, slender limbs, his slim torso and his hips. His fierce eyeliner was a little smudged and his hair, previously having been straightened so meticulously, curled with the dampness of his sweat. </p><p>“You really did do very well today, darling.”, the singer said with a smile that almost seemed shy, “You´re getting so much more confident up on stage, it´s lovely to see.”</p><p>“Thank you…”, John replied, once again blushing, feeling his neck tingle with anticipation and his heart beat faster in his chest, “Means a lot hear you say that.”</p><p>And then John decided to do something. He knew that he might come to regret it later, he knew that it might have been silly and childish and maybe even a little stupid but then he was high on the boost that the show had given to his confidence and there was Christmas cheer in the air and it smelled like mulled wine and he really, really, really wanted to kiss Freddie right now. </p><p>And so he did. </p><p>Freddie´s lips tasted a little salty and John felt the singer freeze under his touch, his lips plush and slack with surprise before John pulled back and smiled brightly at the Persian, who blinked at him like he had just seen a ghost. </p><p>John couldn´t help but grin, even though he knew that he shouldn´t be. </p><p>“John…darling…you can´t just…”, Freddie stammered and John saw the emotions running wild in his friend´s eyes again, guilt and fear and utter confusion and so he just took Freddie´s hands in his, determined in his affection, and looked the older man in the eyes. </p><p>“Tell me to never ever kiss you again and I won´t. I promise.”, he simply said and watched Freddie sigh softly.</p><p>“Darling, that´s not…that´s not what this is about…I…”, he murmured, shaking his head, but John would have none of it. </p><p>“So no more kissing?”, John asked, his tone playful and light. </p><p>“John, I can´t tell you that…”, Freddie tried to weasel his way out. </p><p>“Alright, got it. No more kissing.”, the bassist replied with a nod. </p><p>“No, that´s not what I said, I just…”, Freddie stammered and John raised his eyebrows at his words. </p><p>“So yes to kissing?”, he asked softly but Freddie just shook his head and lowered his gaze, seemingly at the end of his wits. </p><p>“Deaky, please…it´s not as easy as that…”, he said quietly but then John worked up the courage to place a hand onto his cheek, making him lift his gaze again. </p><p>“Yes it is, Freddie. It´s just as easy as that.”, the younger man said softly, his eyes fixed onto Freddie´s face, their gazes locked for a second, before the bassist pulled away. </p><p>“I know what I want…”, he added, “The question is…do you want the same thing?”</p><p>Slowly, he turned and walked towards the door, already being able to hear Roger´s laugh from the large room at the other side of the hallway.</p><p>“I´m getting some mulled wine.”, he said with a quiet smile and then left the room, leaving Freddie standing there, feeling his yearning gaze on his back. </p><p>On that night, Freddie tentatively placed a hand onto John´s back as they laid in the back of the van, Roger happily snoring and Brian already asleep as well. </p><p>As John turned around, Freddie pulled him close and when John raised his head, the singer pressed his lips against the younger man´s forehead, before he leaned down a little further and their lips met in an innocently sweet kiss. </p><p>“Was that my kiss goodnight?”, John asked quietly as the singer pulled away, smiling against his lips. </p><p>“If you want it to be.”, Freddie replied with a smile that almost seemed a little shy. </p><p>“Does that mean I´ll get a good morning kiss as well?”, he asked, which made the singer chuckle softly, his mile turning sweet. </p><p>“If you´d like that.”, the Persian whispered. </p><p>“Very much…”, John sighed, as he snuggled up to Freddie´s chest to go to sleep. </p><p>From then on, the kiss became their little ritual. It was barely a peck on the lips right before they went to sleep, a sweet gesture that Freddie seemed comfortable with and that John cherished so very much. </p><p> </p><p>The day of their last gig before Christmas went absolutely pear-shaped. </p><p>On the drive there, they had had some problems with the car, the temperatures dropping below zero and the engine dying twice with a pitiful spluttering noise. It had resulted in him, being the only one who vaguely knew anything about mechanical things like engines and circuits, having to try and fix it, which had then led to him having to crawl under the car, getting his clothes awfully muddy, only to then notice that it all had to do with the cooler of engine, so they had to wait for half an hour in the cold rain to keep the engine from overheating again. </p><p>When they had arrived at the pub, it kept on raining, icy cold drops falling from the sky and it had been an absolute pain in the arse to carry all of the instruments inside, sliding around and almost falling into the mud, getting even colder than they had been before. </p><p>Roger dropped an amp on Freddie´s foot by accident and the two of them got into quite the nasty fight about it, Freddie claiming that he would now be severely hindered to perform properly, while Roger kept going on and on about how he shouldn´t be moving around so much in stage anyways, they weren´t a group of gymnasts anyway. </p><p>Brian ushered John out of the little backroom when they started properly shouting at one another, announcing that they should try and find something to eat for the four of them before they would start getting ready for the show. </p><p>“If those two haven´t killed each other by then, that is.”, he added as they went on the lookout for a cheap fish and chips show. </p><p>In the end, it was the food that calmed the both of them down as they all sat huddled together in the van while the rain hit the roof of the car, having cheap, slightly sour tasting cider with their food, Roger and Freddie even sharing their chips with one another in the end, once again brothers. </p><p>There was a cosy feeling to it, the four of them, the little family of choice they had become over the last six months and to John, it was one of the best Christmas gifts he had ever received. Felling like he belonged, being part of a group of friends. </p><p>He could feel Freddie´s eyes on him, saw him smile when John laughed at a joke Roger had cracked, the bassist once again being the only one who was already a little tipsy on the drink they had had. He dared to lean his head against the singer´s shoulder and Freddie put an arm around him, just so, almost as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. </p><p>Darkness was setting over the small town and the parking lot behind the pub and when it was about 4pm, they started getting ready for the show. </p><p>His hair and clothes had gotten a little wet as John went over to the backroom of the pub and he was slightly out of breath from running over the parking lot as he entered the cold room, almost running into Freddie as they met each other in the doorway. </p><p>“Oh, careful darling.”, Freddie laughed, his hands quickly steadying John with a firm grip at the hip. </p><p>The bassist could smell his cologne, automatically leaning into the other man, as his finger´s gripped at the Persian´s shoulders. Freddie was wearing a black tip that had the appearance of velvet, about a dozen twinkling little face diamonds having been applied to the neckline of the garment. </p><p>“Sorry, didn´t see you there, Freddie.”, he said quickly, but the singer shook his head. </p><p>“It´s not your fault, love. Shouldn´t be lurking around doorways like that…”, there was a twinkle in his eyes when he spoke those words. </p><p>John thought Freddie simply looked marvellously festive tonight and smiled brightly at him, when out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the characteristically shaped leaves of something green hanging from the highest point of the door way. </p><p>“Mistletoe…”, he murmured softly, his hands still resting on Freddie´s shoulders. </p><p>“Oh yeah, right…em…”, the singer murmured and John couldn´t help but notice how utterly clueless he seemed to be as to what to do now. There was battle of morals once again going on inside of him. John could see it in the other man´s dark eyes. </p><p>So he decided to help Freddie out a little. He simply leaned in and placed a soft, tender kiss onto the other man´s lips. </p><p>The Persian didn´t tense up, like he usually did before he lost the battle with his own demons. No, this time, he sighed, quietly, defeatedly, a little hit in the small sound and as John broke the kiss, there was intense conflict, something close to fear almost in his eyes. </p><p>The expression he saw on the Persian´s face gave John hope, hope for a change, for that Freddie would finally overcome the silly idea that he was but a child, someone who needed to be protected from the harsh reality of the words. </p><p>But as always, the singer stayed silent, helplessly staring into John´s eyes, his lips slightly agape, silent as a fish. </p><p>“I think I should go and look if Brian needs some more help with carrying things over here.”, he said quietly, already loosening his hold on the singer´s shoulders, but then suddenly, Freddie seemed to wake from his stupor. </p><p>“Deaky, wait…”, he said softly, gently placing a hand onto the bassist´s slim, pale wrist, pulling him inside of the small room and closing the door behind them,“There´s something I need to tell you, something I´ve…thought about for quite a few months but then I never…”, Freddie started, his demeanour so uncharacteristically uncertain, his voice so quiet, that it almost seemed odd to John. </p><p>Previously, he had seen the singer´s inability to address what had happened between them as a sort of unwillingness to talk about it. Now, he started to sense that the singer really to know how, how to speak about it, how to explain what he was feeling. </p><p>“John, I like you…I like you a lot…”, Freddie said quietly, his fingers wandering from John´s wrist towards his hand, squeezing it carefully. </p><p>“But…but why did you never say anything, Freddie?”, John replied, giving the other man´s hand a little squeeze back. </p><p>“Because…”, Freddie sighed, struggling to find the right words, “Because you´re 19, John. I know you don´t like hearing it and it´s not because I think you´re still a kid or because I don´t see you as a proper member of this band but I…”, he halted, taking a deep breath, “I feel protective of you, darling. I feel like I should be looking out for you, like I should make sure that you´re okay, that you´re happy and safe, that you´re not drinking too much and sleeping enough and…”</p><p>John could see the fondness in those words, the adoration and care pouring out of them, but still, he couldn´t help but get irritated. </p><p>“I´m not your little brother, Freddie.”, he replied, his head raised, looking the other man in the eyes. </p><p>Freddie let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. </p><p>“That you very much aren´t…”, he murmured and then met John´s gaze again, “In the beginning, I saw you as a boy with a lot of talent, someone who had a passion for music but needed a chance, a chance to shine. Of course, I felt protective of you because you´re young…younger than me anyways…but then I sort of…I had to admit to myself that there was more to it.”</p><p>He pulled John a little closer and a smile spread onto his lips, even though the pain, the struggle between wrong and wright remained evident in his eyes. </p><p>“I started finding the little gap in your teeth utterly adorable when you smiled. I started noticing the way your hair gets that shimmer of auburn when the sun shines down on it. I feel mesmerized when I watch you play your base and you get so absorbed in the activity that you seem to forget everything else around you…”</p><p>John felt himself blushing at the array of compliments, his heart beating much faster in his chest. </p><p>“Of course, I tried to push it away because it´s wrong. You should feel save around me. I should not be having those thought around you. I was pretty sure you were into girls…or much too young to know anyway, hell, when I was your age, I…”, John interrupted the singer´s monologue with another squeeze of his hand. </p><p>“You weren´t a virgin at 19, were you? You weren´t the only one in your group of friends who´d never done anything…with anyone…”, the bassist whispered but as he spoke those words, he saw s shadow being cast over the singer´s features. </p><p>The ghost of something, a memory maybe, a smidge of darkness, of pain and of fear flashed over the singer´s face, before he lowered his gaze. </p><p>“John, when I was your age, I´d already done everything…with everyone…and let me tell you, in hindsight, I´d rather not have…but some of those decisions weren`t mine to make…back then…”, he murmured and John felt himself holding his breath. </p><p>He didn´t know much about Freddie´s past. The singer hated talking about it, usually avoided the topic of his years in school. All he knew from Brian and Roger was that Freddie had gone to a boarding school in India from a very young age and that life hadn´t always been kind to him. </p><p>“Freddie…”, John whispered softly, placing a comforting hand onto the Persian´s cheek. He could see the singer´s upper lips quivering, pulled tight over his front teeth, the other man lost in memories and thoughts that seemed to plague him so. </p><p>John felt helpless and the other man´s pain seemed to become his. </p><p>Suddenly, the Persian looked back up at him and his eyes were shimmering wetly with tears, his voice sounding unsteady as he spoke. </p><p>“I feel like I´ve failed you, my darling…I don´t even know what I was thinking, letting it get that far. I should have never…I feel like I´ve…pressured you into…”, he whispered, but John quickly and vehemently shook his head. </p><p>“Freddie…no…no you didn´t…”, John stammered, struggling to find the right words that would make the other man understand the truth, his truth, already feeling him slipping away into the spiral of guilt once again, “Freddie, listen to me…”</p><p>He now framed the singer´s face with both of his hands. </p><p>“I wanted this. I wanted you…I want you…I still do. I´ve been wanting you since the very day I set eyes on you on the day of my audition for Queen.”, he smiled sweetly at the other man, chuckling and blushing lightly. “With your shiny long black hair and your beautiful dark eyes…seeing right through me…and that charming smile of yours…”</p><p>The corners of Freddie´s mouth raised into one of those smiles, even though he almost seemed insecure under John´s gaze. </p><p>“Oh Deaky…”, he murmured and then took a hold of one of John´s hands on his cheek, pressing his lips against the bassist´s pale wrist in a quick kiss. </p><p>John smiled up at him and made sure to look him right in the eyes as he continued to speak. </p><p>“I know that I´m still young…five years younger than you. But I know what I want…and what I don´t want. You didn´t pressure me into anything. You didn´t, do you hear me?”, John said, his voice strong and steady but the fear and the shadows had returned to the other man´s face, as he spoke, his voice so quiet, so hushed.</p><p>“Sometimes things can get confusing when…when something feels good but…it shouldn´t…you know, sometimes…you let things happen because you don´t know any better and then…in the end…”<br/>
Once again, the ghost of the Persian´s past, unknown to John, seemed to haunt the man, making him shiver, his skin pale, even seeming a little clammy to the touch. </p><p>“Freddie…”, John said, holding the singer´s gaze.  “Stay with me, okay? Listen to me. I enjoyed this…I wanted it to be you…I dreamed about doing this, with you.”, he smiled softly at Freddie, blushing slightly, “You were lovely…I mean, yes, you didn´t know that it was my first time but you made sure that I was okay…you took good care of me…you were there for me…just like you always are, like you always do…”, and then added, in a soft whisper, “I don´t want any other kind of boy…or girl…I want you, Freddie.”</p><p>The singer smiled, a shy, nervous smile, giddy with happiness and he blushed, like a school boy, his hands shaking slightly as he took hold of John´s own.</p><p>“Deaky…My darling…”, he said quietly and then his gaze met John´s, lashes fluttering, “My sweet, sweet darling…”</p><p>He pressed his lips onto the bassist´s cheekbone, then his cheek, the corner of his mouth, before he finally went for John´s waiting lips, just the tenderest of kisses placed onto them. </p><p>When he pulled away, his eyes were full of warmth, full of emotion as he spoke again. </p><p>“I´m sorry for what I said that night…I didn´t mean to tease you for being a virgin before we…it´s nothing to be ashamed about, you´re still…”</p><p>“It´s not just because I´m still young, Fred. Before that night…before you…there was no one I wanted to do it with…”, John admitted, flushing but still not breaking the eye contact with the man in front of him. </p><p>“And I´m very, very honoured that you chose me, darling. I know you…were a little bit embarrassed because…”, he chuckled softly, “…your little case of misfiring. I didn´t mind, really, I didn´t. You were lovely, just…so very lovely…”, he said with the sweetest of smiles on his lips. </p><p>“Do you really think that?”, John asked, lowering his gaze in nervous insecurity, flushing once again as he mentally relived the moment. </p><p>“Yes, I do, darling…I do…”, Freddie replied and pressed another small kiss to his hand, this time his knuckles. </p><p>“But I…I came so fast, I…”, John stammered, blushing up to the roots of his hair. </p><p>“And you looked so adorably flushed and worked up during that orgasm, god, I could have eaten you up…”, the singer cooed and John couldn´t help but hide his face in the older man´s shoulder. </p><p>“Don´t mock me, Freddie.”, he murmured, a wobbly smile on his lips, but Freddie quickly placed a comforting hand on cheek, making him raise his head again. </p><p>The expression in his dark eyes was loving and full of tender adoration as he smiled at John. </p><p>“I´m not! I´m not mocking you, darling. I thought it was precious…and…quite frankly…very arousing…”, the last part of his sentence was spoken in a whisper, which had John giggling, even though he knew how childish he must have seemed to the singer. </p><p>“Arousing?! I felt so embarrassed, I…”, he protested, but Freddie shook his head. </p><p>“Well, I thought you looked absolutely divine.”, he added in a soft whisper. </p><p>“You did?”, John asked, biting his lower lip, still quite baffled by the other man´s words. </p><p>“Course I did, John…The fact that I came about a minute after you started touching me could have been a clue…”, Freddie replied, chuckling and John couldn´t help but grin. </p><p>“Oh…yeah…that´s true…”, he stammered, caught up between smiling and still being awfully embarrassed but then Freddie looked him in the eyes again. </p><p>“As I said, I really like you, John.”, he said, the smile on his lips dying down, but the expression of warmth and adoration not leaving his features. </p><p>“And I like you, Freddie.”, John replied, leaning in a little, so close now that the tip of his nose was brushing against Freddie´s, “As in…like-like…as in…”, he blabbered and Freddie chuckled. </p><p>“Oh really? That much, darling?”, Freddie chuckled and then pressed his lips against John´s, laughing into the kiss. </p><p>“I like like like you…I like like like…”, John rambled on between the sweet, slow kisses that they traded but suddenly, they could hear a voice outside in the hallways. </p><p>“Fred! Where the fuck is my hairspray?”, Roger shouted, sounding quite agitated. Freddie froze on the spot, his eyes guiltily wandering towards the large can of hairspray that stood a mere two meters away from them. </p><p>“I don´t care if you´re making out in there! I´m coming in!”, Roger continued, but suddenly, the heard steps coming closer. </p><p>“Roger, no! They might be having a serious conversation in there, you´re ruining their blossoming romance!”, John could Brian saying and grinned. </p><p>“Ah, bugger! Deaky, mate! Do you see my hairspray anywhere? Does Fred have it?”, Roger sounding much closer now, almost as if he was pressing his face against the wood of the door. </p><p>“Roger, for God´s sake, stop being such and knobhead! They´re are friends and they´ve finally come to terms with their obvious feelings for each other, so would you please shut up about your hairspray!”, Brian shouted and John pressed his face against Freddie´s shoulder to quiet down his laughter. </p><p>“But I…”, the drummer protested, but Brian didn´t seem to be willing to listen. </p><p>“No! Get away from that door, Roger! Come on, I´m going to have a look if there´s some left in my can back at the van.”, the guitarist said and then their steps disappeared, echoing in the hallway. </p><p>“You don´t even use hairspray…”, they heard Roger grumbling. </p><p>“Yes, I do!”, Brian replied, his voice now barely audible anymore.</p><p>“No, you don´t, it doesn´t even work with your hair, because…”</p><p>“Oh, do shut up!”</p><p>John could feel the little vibrations Freddie´s held back laughter was sending through his chest and when they assumed their friends to be gone, they broke out into full on giggling. </p><p>John took a deep breath to steady himself and as he looked up at Freddie, his cheeks hurting from smiling so much, he noticed that the singer had already been looking at him. </p><p>“Do you reckon we should tell them?”, the singer asked, still holding John safely in his arms. </p><p>“Freddie…”, John said in a soft tone, “…I don´t think that´ll be necessary.”</p>
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